It Doesn't Suit You
by Pleurez Mes Yeux
Summary: Having a body of his own is a major adjustment that he's having trouble coping with. Help comes from the most unexpected of places. Rated for language. Prideshipping implied if you squint. Note: Expect slow updates! This is currently on the backburner while I work on another fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Just a random story. I'd intended to do a Christmas fic, but I just couldn't get into the holiday spirit enough to pull it off, so I settled for a winter story instead. Anyway, this is an AU story where the Ceremonial Duel ended in a draw and Tami was given his own body. It's my first fic with Kaiba! If you read, let me know what you think-I'm not quite sure I got the character right.**

**So, yeah... Read and review please!**

**~Pleurez**

Spiked, multi-colored hair peeked out from beneath seemingly countless layers of scarves, ear-muffs, and coats. Yami prowled down the sidewalk, gloved hands shoved into his pocket and his head down, trying to keep his face protected from the snow.

Even beneath his formidable collection of clothing, he shivered. And to make matters worse, the thick blanket of the white abomination covering the ground made walking infinitely more slow and tiring. Under his breath, he cursed every god whose name he could remember.

His mood was far from improved as a sleek, black car slowed to a stop beside him.

"What's the matter? Couldn't bum a ride off one of your moronic friends?" The former spirit would have liked nothing better than to smash his fist into the mouth producing that sneering drawl.

"Fuck. Off." He was too cold and tired to bother with banter, anyway.

A scoff.

"I didn't think pharaohs used that kind of language."

A low growl rumbled in Yami's throat. He continued to trudge down the road, feeling every muscle in his body coil in tension as the car remained right beside him.

"If you h-have a point then h-h-hurry up and make it," he spat, hating the way his voice quivered as his body trembled from the cold.

So. Fucking. Cold. He _hated_ the cold.

The CEO rolled his eyes. "Get in the car."

The former spirit didn't even dignify that with a verbal response. His eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare, but otherwise he just kept walking. The faster he moved, the faster he could get inside… But his muscles ached and his breaths were heavy and labored.

He still wasn't used to having a body of his own. Taking control of Yugi's body for a few hours at a time was nothing compared to the awful drain on his energy that having his own form was turning out to be. He tired easily, finding the limits of his new body were reached far, far more quickly than he was accustomed to.

"If you're really that determined to freeze to death, far be it from me to stop you. But the game shop is still at least a twenty minute walk from here." And that was optimistic—especially for Yami with his short legs.

Yami hesitated. He took a step towards the car, regarding the handle on the door as if it were a venomous snake. He couldn't decide what he hated more—cars or the cold. He was convinced both were punishments conjured by the gods themselves.

"Let's go. I don't have all day."

"Asshole." But despite the angry hiss, he jerked the car door open and slid in.

As much as he hated to admit it, he'd overestimated his stamina. As a matter of fact, Yugi's grandfather had driven to school with the intention of driving them both back to the game shop. Yami had refused so adamantly that he'd almost gotten into a shouting match with Yugi.

He felt a bit guilty for that.

It wasn't his fault. Or anyone else's, for that matter.

But Yami wasn't Yugi. He didn't have the unfailing patience and kindness of the other boy, and he could only keep his temper in check for so long before he snapped. And he was angry, frustrated, and entirely without any semblance of an outlet for his negativity.

Yugi had been positively thrilled to bits when the lack of a victor in their duel ended in Yami being granted a body. His friends had practically exuded joy and enthusiasm.

Telling them how much he hated it would have ruined their happiness. But he hated the limitations of this new form. It infuriated him that he could barely keep up with his friends whenever they went anywhere. He couldn't stand how tired he was. He felt _weak_ all the time.

"So, care to explain why your friends left you to fend for yourself in middle of the storm?"

"I told them to. I thought I'd be able to manage." He wrapped his arms around himself. He'd never admit it, but the warmth of the heated car felt good. But even after the door closed, the car remained still. He looked to Kaiba, wondering what the delay was.

"Seatbelt," the CEO drawled.

"Don't trust yourself not to get us killed?" The defensive retort came forth immediately, almost like a reflex.

Kaiba wasn't one to back down from a challenge. However, in this instance he let the matter drop. Something about the edge in the shorter duelist's voice gave him pause. As he pulled away from the curb, he divided his attention between the road and the man in the passenger's seat.

He'd begun to scratch his left arm. It started off a slow and easy motion, but grew in intensity until Kaiba wondered if the stupid mutt the pharaoh liked so much had given him fleas.

He chewed his lower lip as he stared at the window.

Kaiba could hear his breaths.

But it didn't add up. If Yami was afraid of cars, why had he refused to wear the seatbelt? He hadn't jumped as the moment revved, more had he flinched over a sharp turn…

Despite the storm, Yami rolled down his window.

Kaiba rolled it back up.

Immediately, Yami's hand flew to the button again.

Kaiba retaliated by rolling it up once again and locking it.

"_Kaiba_." It was incredible how much venom Yami could pack into a single word.

"Tell me. Do your so-called friends know you're claustrophobic?"

Silence.

"Hn. So now the truth comes out. The _great pharaoh_ is nothing more than a hypocrite."

He swore he could _see_ the fury radiating off the smaller man as if it were a physical force. "Relying on others isn't a sign of weakness. That's your usual speech, isn't it?" He smirked wickedly at the explosion when he pulled up to his mansion.

"_Explain yourself,"_ he ground out. "Why have you brought me here?"

"Duel me." It wasn't a request.

"If you think for one moment—"

"You have your deck, don't you?"

It was a stupid question. Yami didn't go anywhere without his deck.

Yami didn't argue further. He certainly wasn't going to walk to the game shop from Kaiba's mansion, and he didn't particularly want to stand out in the cold any longer. He crossed the threshold, peeling off layers of wet clothes that had long since stopped warding off the chill.

"You really are an idiot." All the same, Kaiba had the clothes taken to be dried.

The time passed in relative silence as he led the fuming teen to his private duel arena.

Kaiba had never been thrashed so soundly in his life—not even by Yami. The former pharaoh proceeded to pound his rival into the ground without even the slightest thought towards restraint. His strategies lacked their usual finesse. It was just an outpouring of visceral brutality.

But this time, as Ra blasted away the last of Kaiba's life points, a superior smirk crept its way across the other duelist's face. "Better?"

Yami's eyes grew wide. He realized that for the first time in perhaps months, all the tension of repressed bitterness and frustration had left his muscles. He was tired, but it wasn't the usual, all-consuming weariness that had weighed him down of late. He felt… _light_, as if he'd been relieved of an impossibly heavy load that he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying.

"Why…?" He trailed off, brow furrowing in confusion.

"You're not nearly as good at hiding things as you like to think. If the midget was just a little less honest, he'd have seen it, too."

Yami's eyes narrowed. But, he couldn't find it in him to be angry, even despite Kaiba's rather unflattering description of his other half.

"I should go. Yugi will worry."

"Don't be stupid. Your things won't be dry yet and the weather's only going to get worse." He looked out the window and sure enough the snow had begun to fall harder.

The pharaoh opened his mouth to protest. But, after a moment, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Then what do you propose I do?"

"Call Yugi, Let him know you'll be spending the night here." Looking the former spirit up and down, remarked, "I'll show you to one of the guest rooms. You could use rest."

Desperately fighting the urge to yawn, Yami protested, "Kaiba, please. I am perfectly fi—"

"Shut up." Turning on his heel, Kaiba drawled, "You sound like me. It doesn't suit you."


	2. Chapter 2

**So this had originally been intended as a one-shot, but a reviewer commented that it seemed like there should be more, and re-reading it I guess it seemed like there was room for more Kaiba/Yami sparring. Or maybe I'm just cranky and this seemed like an acceptable outlet. Anyway, here it is-an unplanned chapter two.**

**Let me know what you guys think! Reviews are always loved.**

**~Pleurez**

The scene at the Kaiba house was almost homey. Though the snow had stopped during the night and the roads were mostly plowed, it still held many cars hostage in their driveways. Schools were closed for the day, and after an endless stream of phone calls and e-mails from staff who either couldn't manage to liberate their vehicles or couldn't locate a sitter for the brats who couldn't be sent in to school, Kaiba had grudgingly sent out a notice that Kaiba Corp would be closed in the morning, but would open promptly at noon.

The two brothers sat at the table, Mokuba digging into a bowl of some sugary cereal and Seto nursing a cup of coffee. A bowl of cereal also sat in front of Yami, but the former spirit seemed more interested in pushing it around than actually eating it.

Kaiba's eyes narrowed. "It doesn't do you any good if you don't put it in your mouth."

Yami leveled a glare at his host. It wasn't like he'd _asked_ for breakfast. He ground out, "I thank you for your concern, Kaiba, but I am not hungry."

"You slept through dinner last night."

Mokuba snorted. "No offense, Nii-sama, but you're the _last_ person who should be complaining about someone skipping meals." He glanced pointedly at the cup of coffee in his brother's hands. Caffeine on its own didn't count as breakfast.

His eyes shifted from Yami to Seto in an unnervingly calculated manner.

"I say if Yami eats his breakfast, then _you_ have to eat something, too."

Someone had to make Seto take care of himself… Without bothering to wait for Seto's reply, he turned wide, gray eyes to the former spirit. "What do you say, Yami?"

The former spirit grimaced. Though Seto had said nothing, he could see the nonverbal surrender.

"Please?" The boy's voice had become a needling sing-song.

Mokuba's eyes brightened in triumph as he picked up the spoon.

The pharoah couldn't quite hide the look of displeasure that crossed his face. Though, it barely scratched the surface of the absolute disgust eating inspired in him. Yami couldn't help it. After having been dead for so long, he'd grown accustomed to not needing such things.

Logically, he knew his body needed food. But bodily functions disgusted him.

He felt like a massive lump was settling in his stomach as he choked his breakfast down. A shiver ran down his spine, and for a moment he felt as if he were going to vomit.

Kaiba scrutinized him. This... This didn't make sense. The claustrophobia had been easy enough to figure out, but for the life of him he couldn't make sense of Tami's apparent aversion to meals. And it pissed him off. Kaiba didn't like puzzles he couldn't solve. He figured Yugi was probably as blissfully unaware of his so-called best friend's issues with food as he was of the reason behind Yami's distaste for cars... It likely would have been useless to try to get information out of him.

Still, he could'nt help but wonder how many meals had Yami managed to skip without anyone noticing? Granted, his own eating habits were pretty abysmal, but at least he didn't try to hide it.

Besides, there was no denying that, at least physically, he was stronger than Yami.

"Didn't I tell you yesterday? It doesn't suit you."

Crimson eyes darkened with anger and his jaw clenched. "Shut up."

Kaiba smirked, "Consider it payback."

Yami scowled at him, but Kaiba pretended not to notice, instead turning his attention to the toast Mokuba had so gleefully shoved in front of him. He had to admit, it was amusing to show the pharaoh just how _annoying_ endless preaching could be.

Finally, he moved to stand. "Thank you for your hospitality, Kaiba, but I should be getting back to Yugi."

"You're not walking."

He could see Yami struggling to control his temper—the rigidity of his muscles, the forced, even breaths, the way he narrowed his eyes… He really was far more transparent than he liked to think—Yugi just wasn't used to having to read between the lines.

"The snow's even deeper than it was yesterday, and considering how well you were managing then…"

"I will be _fine_," he said forcefully.

"Cars are a necessity, Yami. May as well get used to them."

'It won't be any trouble," Mokuba intervened, trying to avoid a shouting match. "Nii-sama was going to take me over there, anyway."

However, the former spirit's eyes never left Kaiba. "Since when have you cared, anyway?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I just don't feel like dealing with your friends if they found out I let you freeze to death."

"Ass."

"Hypocrite."

"Piss off!"

"Make me."

"_Kaiba!_"

"Yes?"

Mokuba's gaze shifted between the pair, as if he were watching some strange perversion of a tennis match. Finally, Yami snarled something incoherent and stormed off to collect his coats, scarves, earmuffs, and mittens.

When he left, the boy shot a withering glare at his brother. "Why do you guys _always_ have to fight?"

"He's already angry, Mokuba. May as well give him a reason for it." He knew firsthand how dangerous suppressed anger could be, and he also knew the former spirit was too kind to let loose on Yugi or any of his friends.

Mokuba turned to the doorway. Yami _did _appear more sedate as he bundled himself up to brave the cold. The explosion seemed to have gotten whatever was really bothering him out of his system...

"Let's go."

Kaiba wasn't going to give Yami the chance to sneak out the door.

As they piled into the car, he was no more comfortable than he'd been the previous day. But this time Kaiba let him keep the window rolled down, which seemed to help.

Still, as the car slowed to a halt, Yami's hand shot to the door, shoving it open as quickly as he could manage. Kaiba's hand caught his wrist as he tried to get out.

"I expect a rematch."

Yami nodded.

It wasn't that he felt _good_, exactly. He still felt he would've been far better off if he could've passed into the afterlife like he was supposed to. But sparring with Kaiba had… Well, he couldn't put his finger on it, exactly. But as he pushed open the door to the game shop, he almost managed to force his smile to reach his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**So here's another chapter. This one was harder to write than the last two. I started it twice, each time going in a completely different direction before ending up with this. Your thoughts on it would be much appreciated! I guess I'm kind of planning for this to go in a prideshipping kind of direction... But I don't usually do multi-chapter fics... Anyway, the point is I guess I'm still not _entirely_ sure how this thing is going to end up playing out... And I'm a bit iffy on this chapter, so thoughts would be loved.**

**Please read and review!**

**~Pleurez**

A week later, Kaiba demanded his rematch. However, this time he didn't take Yami to his personal duel arena. Rather, as the former spirit stepped through the door, he said curtly, "Come up stairs." Without waiting to see if Yami was following, he climbed the staircase, pausing only when he heard soft pants behind him.

Yami lagged behind, unable to keep up with the CEO's brisk pace.

Kaiba rolled his eyes. "And yet you wanted to walk home in the middle of a snow storm."

Yami's eyes darkened. He prowled up the stairs, moving as quickly as he could manage.

He still couldn't catch up to Kaiba.

Gods, he hated this body…

Kaiba stood in the doorway of his office. It was nice, though rather bland. A sturdy, mahogany desk stood in the middle of the room, a black, leather chair behind it. Atop the desk sat a delicate chess set, the pieces carved from marble to resemble duel monsters—naturally, the blue eyes had replaced the standard king. With a smirk, Kaiba sauntered over to his chair, gesturing for Yami to take a seat on the other side of the desk.

"What is this?" He tried to pass of the weariness in his tone for irritation, but it didn't quite have the desired effect.

"You _do_ know how to play, don't you?"

A terse nod.

"Then sit."

With a venomous glare, Yami sank into the offered chair. It didn't escape his notice that the white pieces were on his side of the table. "Getting cocky already," he sneered.

Kaiba didn't dignify that with a response. He leaned forward, drawling, "How about we raise the stakes a bit, hm?" His eyes shifted to the pieces on the board. "For each one of your pieces I remove from the board, I ask one question that you have to answer honestly. The same goes for you. _If_ you manage to get that far."

Yami pushed the queen pawn forward two spaces.

"If you were playing someone else, that _might_ have worked." Though, this game was just a little different than any other chess game Kaiba had played. In the past, the goal had been to win as quickly and decisively as possible. In this case, he had every intention of prolonging the torture.

Still, a few moves in Yami had left his knight unprotected, allowing Kaiba to claim the first piece of the game. Usually, he went straight for the jugular—Kaiba was by no means a patient man. But even he understood that on occasion there was a need for a certain level of restraint. "What do you remember of your past life?"

"Why do you care?"

"Sorry, Yami. _I_ captured _your_ piece, which means _I_ don't have to answer anything."

He grit his teeth. "Mostly names and faces. Seth, Mana, Mahad…" He shook his head. He'd expected everything to come rushing back, but only select parts of his past had been uncovered once his task was completed. The rest were left to come trickling back in bits and pieces. "I remember my father. And then taking control of the kingdom. Then being sealed in the puzzle."

"That's all?"

"The deal was _one_ question per piece." It was strange. As much as he'd searched for his memories, now that he'd recovered some, he found he didn't much like thinking about the past. All it did was remind him that he _should_ have been dead.

He pushed a pawn forward.

Kaiba claimed it.

"What do you miss most?"

"My strength." He blurted the answer out before he had a chance to think about it. "I mean…" He closed his eyes, trying to find a way to backpedal. Finally, he sighed. "I… I was told it would return in time but…"

"It's a difficult process."

"How would you know," he asked defensively.

"You shattered my heart and put me in a coma, remember?"

Yami folded his arms across his chest. He didn't see what that had to do with anything.

Kaiba rolled his eyes. "Muscles atrophy, dumbass."

Yami slid one of his pawns into a space previously occupied by one of Kaiba's. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I should've billed _you_ for my physical therapy when I finally came out of it. Even though I didn't have to start completely from scratch, it took a lot to get back to where I had been."

Yami's expression softened. He hadn't realized… At the time, he supposed he'd figured he was being merciful sparing Kaiba from physical harm. He hadn't understood the implications of his actions.

"A proper diet helps."

Yami scowled.

"Check."

The former pharaoh huffed and set his elbows on the desk, resting his head against his hands as he tried to find some way to both save his bishop and block Kaiba's attack on his king. But his efforts proved to be in vain as the bishop was promptly taken off the board.

"Why are you starving yourself?"

His head shot up. "I am _not_—"

"Yes, you are." Kaiba didn't waver beneath the former spirit's hostile glare. "That's what happens when you skip as many meals as you can get away with."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Just answer the damn question."

"I don't _like_ eating. So what? I don't see how it's any of your business."

"Will you just answer the goddamn question?"

"I was _dead_," Yami spat. "I was _dead_ and trapped in a tomb for three thousand years. Even if I'd _wanted_ to eat, I wouldn't have been able to." And for the longest time, he had—it had been am part of living he'd missed very much. He remembered that much—bound in the puzzle, held captive by the shadows… Existing as a spirit, but craving life. Craving light and warmth and everything he'd taken for granted...

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hadn't meant to lose his temper. Kaiba just made it so damn _easy_. "Why? Will you at least tell me what this is about?"

"You're destroying yourself." He could see the anger simmering in the smaller man at the accusation, but he remained unfazed. "You're the only opponent who has ever been worthy of my time, and if you're going to unravel, it had damn well better be because of me." He proceeded to corner Yami's king with his rook.

"Checkmate."

"I'm leaving."

"Stay for dinner."

He shouldn't have agreed. But Kaiba hadn't been entirely wrong—his body wasn't reacting well to his habits, and he didn't particularly feel up to walking home.


End file.
